Shattered Emerald
by Kaseixjaa
Summary: Flames and flashes of jade green, crossing blades with slashes and crosses of ruby red. They danced the waltz of death, sweat and blood trailing from their bodies. Only one would remain, dancing on the others grave. Lenalee-centric. Please R&R. Thanks.
1. Stage I

**Author's Note: Hello everybody! My name is Kaseixjaa. This is the first story I've ever written seriously outside of a school setting. What can I say? D Gray-Man was such a moving show—it inspired me. I hope you enjoy my story, and please, if you don't mind, take a few moments to write me a review. Feel free to give me suggestions, point out any mistakes I might've missed, tell me what you liked, what you didn't, anything! I'm interested in hearing everyone's opinions, as long as they're not pointless flames.**

**Also, I wrote chapters one through five before submitting it online, so you probably won't see anymore of these notes until later on in the story. **

**Once again, I hope you enjoy my story.**

* * *

_Where am I?_

The air was dense yet empty; the stench of death clung in the air. The smell of blood was pungent, that familiar coppery taste pervading her nose and mouth.

She surveyed the landscape from her make-shift chair. She was perched upon a crumbling ruin—a lone island surrounded by more debris and the endless sea. The water was blood red, reflecting the ominous black crescent moon. The satellite was so low in that same blood red sky, she need only outstretch her arm to touch it.

She, she, she, she, she… Only she. Where was everyone else?

She tried to call out, but could make no sound. Her voice was broken it seemed, caught in her throat.

A deep stillness permeated the atmosphere. The world was dead. Had she become the sole survivor of some cataclysmic catastrophe?

_I can't remember._

Her mind was blank.

As the girl struggled with conflicting thoughts and emotions, something flickered in her peripheral vision. Movement? She tracked its source, horrified eyes locking on the twisted visage of a charred and scarred arm, reaching from the beneath the sea. For a moment, the limb jerked and contorted, vainly grasping, trying to reach _something_, but only clutching air. Unable to anchor itself, the hand slid beneath the surface, falling prey to the watery chasm below.

She screamed.


	2. Stage II

_February 16, 18XX. 8:12 A.M._

_Black Order Headquarters, France.  
_

Light filtered through drawn shades, illuminating the dust bunnies that flitted back and forth within the air. A female was fast asleep in her bed, restless. Occasionally she would thrash in her sleep, trapped within an unhappy dream.

"Lenalee!"

She sat bolt upright. _Thump, thump._ A cold sweat coated the female's body, soaking her bedclothes and sheets. Violet eyes slowly came into focus, gazing at her trembling hands in a dazed confusion. She could hear her pulse pounding in her ears.

"Just a dream…" She murmured. _That_ dream, to be exact.

_Thump, thump._

It took her a moment to realize that sound was not her heart, still pounding, but rather someone knocking on her door.

"Miss Lenalee!"

_Thump, thump._

"Coming!" The girl called, nearly tripping as she hastily disentangled herself from the sheets.

Lenalee yanked the door open, eyes resting on a giant of a man. He towered over the petit youth, standing at least seven feet tall, with broad shoulders and a barrel chest. Black whiskers peppered his square jaw, reaching into a mop of graying curls.

A thick cowhide belt was wrapped around a thick beige robe, which looked several sizes too small. The thing had already burst some seams where the sleeves connected to the torso. Several pouches hung from his leather girdle, various odds and ends _clicking_ and _clacking_ with every movement. She knew instantly who this person was, or rather, _what_ he was.

_A finder._

"Good morning Miss Lee. Sorry to disturb you so early in the day." The gruff man offered an apologetic smile, standing awkwardly in the doorway, knees slightly bent as he looked down on her.

"Ah, it's no trouble at all. I was already up." She lied.

"The Supervisor is looking for you. He wants to see you in his office ASAP." "Komui wants to see me? All right, thank you… erm…"

"Lancel." She had never met Lancel before, though that was nothing particularly new. There were many finders. An unfortunately disproportionate number, compared to the current militia of exorcists. However, with the war in full swing, both finder and exorcist alike were dropping like flies.

"Ah, okay. Thank you Lancel, I'll be there shortly."

As soon as the finder departed, she went to her bathroom. While washing her face, her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of her dream. She'd had it before, but the last time she'd experienced it had been before the journey to Edo, which had been several months ago.

It disturbed her. Nothing ever good came of this dream, and she sorely doubted that was going to change anytime soon.

The female exorcist paused a moment, eyes resting on her reflection in the mirror. Her vision yielded a slender girl of sixteen, with intense violet irises, and shimmering teal tresses that reached just nigh of her shoulder blades, though they were currently in a bit of a tangle. She began brushing her ragged-looking mane.

It had taken several months for her hair to get this long. It wasn't quite as long as it had been, before her battle with the level three Akuma over the Sea of Japan, but it was getting there—just as she had promised Anita.

_I won't let the war get the best of me._

A slight stinging sensation pierced her eyes, as she recalled Anita, the brave and beautiful captain, along with Mahoja and the rest of the crew, those courageous humans who had sacrificed themselves in order to protect the exorcists. Lenalee wiped her eyes.

"I swear your sacrifice won't be in vain. We'll win the war, for sure."

But she wasn't so sure.


	3. Stage III

_February 16, 18XX. 8:34 A.M._

_Black Order Headquarters, France._

"Oi, Supervisor!"

The shout echoed in a large circular room, surrounded by tall bookcase. An endless amount of paper was scattered over the marble-tiled floors, almost completely hiding it from view, save for a makeshift walkway to a handcrafted polished elm desk.

The brash voice belonged to a wiry Australian male, with spiky golden hair, the faintest hint of a beard growing on his chin, and dark purple shadows under his eyes. Sleep deprivation was almost a fashion accessory when you worked in the science department. If any of its members didn't wear that badge and wear it proud, they were obvious slacking (such was usually the case with Komui.)

Lenalee, freshly showered and garbed in the latest exorcist attire, followed the disgruntled squad leader, hiding a smile. She had spotted her brother fast asleep under a gargantuan pile of books and papers. How he managed to breathe was anyone's guess.

Adding the stack of papers he'd brought along to the gravity-defying pile atop Komui, Reever leaned by the supervisor's head (barely visible amidst the clutter) and whispered something inaudible to Lenalee, who was politely standing several feet away.

Komui awoke in a rage, creating a maelstrom of paper and leather bindings.

"LENALEE! How could you?! Leaving your poor brother all by himself while you run off with some guy?! You're so cruel! Who is he? I'll exterminate the demon!"

Luckily Reever grabbed the supervisor before he could launch Komurin IV. It wouldn't due to have him destroying the new headquarters they had just moved into less than a month ago.

"What am I going to do with you?" Lenalee sighed, approaching her near-sobbing brother. "I'm not getting married, you big dummy." And just like that, Komui reverted to his normal self. Well, as normal as someone of his nature could be.

The supervisor cleared his throat as well as a portion of his desk. He glanced at his sister, thirteen years his junior, fatherly warmth and affection filling his heart. She had grown into such a beautiful lady… So very different from the tortured and traumatized child he'd discovered when he first joined the Order.

"So Lenalee, what can I help you with?" Komui asked, wishing she had brought him a cup of coffee like she usually did. Lenalee's coffee was the best.

The female exorcist blinked slowly a few times, obviously confused.

"Eh? Didn't you call me to your office? A finder named Lancel told me you wanted to see me."

Now it was her brother's turn to be confused.

"Huh? I don't think I did… though I suppose I could have and just forgotten. You know how busy I am." Reever snorted contemptuously at that. Komui only glared in response.

_This is strange. Something doesn't feel right._

"You okay Lenalee? You look rather pale."

She shook her head and smiled confidently.

"Don't worry, I'm fine. It was my mistake; I must've dreamed it. In any case, I'm going to go, if there's nothing else."

Komui deftly pulled a folder from the hazard pile on his desk. He had to give it to Lenalee before she could run off, while he still had the chance.

"Actually, Kanda has been delayed in his return from his current mission. I had another one lined up for him, but it can't wait and since you're here… Normally I wouldn't send you on a mission by yourself, but we're lacking in manpower" He grimaced, knowing she would connect the dots. She nodded, accepting the manila folder and exiting his office without saying another word.

"I wonder if she's okay…" Komui mused, chewing absentmindedly on his thumbnail. "Perhaps I should check on her before she goes…"

"I don't think so supervisor!"

'Crap, I forgot Reever was still here!' Komui had the decency to flash the squad leader a sheepish green.

"You're going to stay here and sign all these papers, even if it's the last thing you do!"

_February 16, 18XX. 1:17 P.M._

_Black Order Reserved Compartment, Train._

Verdant scenery flew past, against an azure backdrop, with puffy white clouds lazily following suit. A light breeze filtered through the partially open compartment window. Lenalee Lee had her head propped against the glass, shallow breath escaping her parted lips as she dozed lightly. The exorcist's hand was cupped against her smooth jaw line. In her other hand, she clutched a manila folder, the gentle wind rustling the papers it contained.

Across the compartment, a finder sat, his hood shrouding most of his face. The rest of his face that wasn't shadowed was wrapped in bandages, only a single eye visible. It was locked on the sleeping exorcist. Even in the bright light, it glowed an unnatural golden hue.


	4. Stage IV

_February 16, 18XX. 5:30 P.M. _

_Berlin, Germany._

"How was your nap, Miss Lee?"

The young exorcist smiled politely at the finder, a pink tinge creeping across her porcelain cheeks. She hadn't planned on falling asleep. One minute, she was reading the details of her mission, and the next, the train had shuddered to a stop and she was staring at what little of the daylight was left, as it quickly receded past the horizon.

"Sorry about that," Lenalee replied, looking around the near-empty train station. Dark had completed fallen now. Street lamps were slowly flickering into life. "Shall we get going?"

The finder nodded, leading the way to their hotel. Lenalee walked quietly after the robed man. She stared at her boots as she walked. The _thunk_ of each step was mild, muffled by a think blanket of fallen snow over the cobblestone street.

_Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk…_

Her mind was once more flipping through the pages of her assignment, recalling every word in such detail that a less knowledgeable person might confuse her with a Bookman.

_Twelve days ago, a storm suddenly began in Berlin, even though minutes prior, the sun was bright and the sky was clear. During the storm, large chunks of hale, rained from the sky. Most, if not all of the hale, were more than an inch in diameter. Building damage and human casualties were minimal. The storm began at midnight, and ended promptly at 12:07 A.M. _

_Three days afterwards, a storm of the same caliber occurred, at the exact same time and lasting seven minutes once more. Every third day, the same storm came and went. Its epicenter seems to be the Brandenburg Gate. Confirmation is needed however. The finders that went on ahead to investigate have disappeared upon further inspection. We have not been able to contact the lost finders at all since their disappearance._

_During this time period, four people have gone missing as well (not including the lost finders) one of them being the daughter of the Mayor. _

_The fourth storm will occur at midnight on the night you arrive at Berlin. Observe and act accordingly._

_Mission objectives:_

_Discover the source of this phenomenon; if innocence related, recover said innocence._

_Destroy any Akuma that could've been attracted by the possibility of innocence._

_Recover the lost person(s) if possible._

_Proceed with caution and discretion._

_Supervisor of the Black Order Headquarters in England_

_Komui Lee_

Lenalee was shaken from her reverie as the finder tapped her lightly on the shoulder. She looked at her guide, slightly confused.

"We're here Miss Lee."

Lenalee's jaw dropped (in a very unladylike fashion too.)

She was looking at the largest and grandest hotel she had ever seen in her entire life. Its doors were bedecked with large glass panes and gold filigree. Through the very open front, she could see a giant chandelier, made from diamond and gold, hanging from the high arched ceiling. The lobby was large enough to store at least five Hevlaska's, and that was only a mere fraction of the entire hotel. There were several bellboys busy by the entrance, either carrying luggage, holding doors, or offering assistance to very decorated women, young and old.

In fact, she noticed, there were many fancy looking people about, all dressed in expensive suits and dresses, wearing top hats and furs respective to their genders. She herself suddenly felt very self-conscious, noticing the dust and dirt on her black overcoat.

Lenalee eyes were as big as saucers as she drank in every detail of the rich atmosphere. It was simply splendid. Even a non-history buff such as her could appreciate the pure beauty and majesty of it all. It took little effort to imagine how Bookman would lecture on and on about the fancy blend of Baroque and Rococo architecture, the history of each, and so on and so forth. She giggled, imagining how Lavi would complain and call the elderly scholar a panda (though the resemblance was very fetching!) Such a remark had a 99.9% chance of earning a rather physical retaliation.

"So, this is where we're staying?" The young exorcist asked, feeling a silly schoolgirl giddiness growing throughout her body.

"No. Just you miss," The finder offered her an apologetic smile. With that, her feelings of pure joy popped like a balloon. Ecstasy had been replaced with confusion, followed by an unshakable sense of misgiving. "I'll be staying at a hotel further down this lane."

She frowned.

_This is fishy._

Her suspicions were confirmed as a flustered man walked towards them hurriedly, his big puffy cheeks pink, covered in a thin layer of perspiration, despite the harsh chill. He was a short and stubby man, with a receding hairline and not very much neck. Judging from his black tailcoat, dress pants and bowtie, he was probably an employee of this grand establishment.

"Miss Lee?" The portly man inquired, nervously playing with a thick black mustache that quivered when he spoke. Lenalee noticed his eyes incessantly twitch towards his pocket watch. She nodded slowly, affirming the man's query. "I am very sorry for the wait, my name is Marcus Fridh. I am the manager for this hotel, _Einrichtung des Brandenburger_." Marcus took her hand in both of his and shook it. Lenalee smiled kindly at him, wondering what strings her brother pulled to get a room here.

_So much for discretion._

"It's very nice to meet you, sir. I'm sorry for any inconvenience you had to suffer. My brother can be… overprotective at times." Lenalee made a quick note to scold said brother when she got back.

"Not at all Miss, not at all! It's our honor to host such an important guest as yourself. That aside, we cannot afford to delay the annual Queen's Birthday Ball. This god-be-damned weather is scaring away all the guests! It simply will not do." He snorted in disdain with such force, Lenalee feared for the safety of his mustache. "I was the one who called you know? The Order, that is. It would be a great dishonor to my grandfather if I were to botch up such an important event. I offered to house any and all members the Order deemed necessary to send, but your supervisor… erm… Komui, was it? Yes, he said it was not necessary. Just this morning however, he called me back, noting me of a change in plans. At that point however, we only had room available." He leaned in closer, dropping his voice to a faint hiss. "The Grand Master Suite, a room we do not give out publicly. It is reserved for top tier VIP's only. I was glad to give it you, Miss Lee, of course. But unfortunately, we had no other rooms for your comrades, and your Supervisor insisted you have a room all to yourself."

Lenalee sighed. Her brother was a bit ridiculous sometimes. She sometimes wondered if he actually had a sister complex.

"Beforehand, I could not understand his reasons for keeping a single exorcist in such a large room, but now I understand completely. It would not due for such a modest and beautiful lady as yourself to keep undue company while on a mission." The manager cast a dark look at the finder. He caught the drift. The young male nodded at Lenalee, before departing down the street.

"Come, Miss Lee," Marcus Fridh held the door for her, beckoning her inside the establishment. "I will show you to your room." He motioned for a bellhop, who quickly retrieved her luggage from her. The boy went on ahead, to make sure her room was properly prepared for use.

As the manager led her through the halls, he prattled on and on. Mostly it was about the history of the hotel, how his great-great-great grandfather had built it from scratch. He gave a short biography of the person in every portrait they passed, all related to the thick man in some way. He did the same for all the various artifacts scattered throughout the building. Occasionally he would inquire about Lenalee herself, but she would only respond with vaguely polite answers.

"We're here, Miss Lee," The chubby man opened the door for her, bowing the young exorcist inside. "I hope you find everything to your liking. There is a little gift, from me, on your bed. If you need anything, just ring this bell." He nodded towards a little pull-string by the door. "Have a good night, lady exorcist."

Lenalee smiled, waving to the manager before closing the door. She took the time to survey the room.

It was vastly different from her room in the Order, with its limited decorations, stonewalls, and no windows. This room was at least three times larger than hers. Its general design was similar in nature to the outside architecture of the hotel, adopting the now-familiar Rococo and Baroque mixed design.

A large chandelier hung from the arched ceiling, glittering with diamonds. She wondered if the person who had crafted this one had also crafted its big brother in the lobby. The ceiling itself was painted, mimicking some of the more famous portions of the Sistine Chapel. It was a comparable replica.

Placed throughout the room were pieces of polished oak furniture, as well as various tapestries and paintings, many of them of famous occupants, such as the Arch Duke of Austria, Queen Sophia the II, et cetera.

A large four-poster bed was the nucleus of the suite. It was created from hand carved oak, probably by the same master that created the other furniture in the room. The four wood pillars of the bed were five feet tall, with a vicious eagle carved onto the tips of each. Fashioned after the German coat of arms, Lenalee mused. In the beaks of the birds, stretched across the entire span of the bed, white silk (imported from Asia) hung, canopying the furniture. The general effect reminded Lenalee very much of the litters of old, the ones that held Asian princes and princesses of old, carried on the backs of their faithful servants.

At the moment, she couldn't help but feel a little like a princess herself.

She pulled back the curtains of her bed. In a bleached white envelope, a letter lay in the center, a slight indentation on the otherwise crisp sheets.

"This must've been what Mr. Fridh was talking about." Lenalee murmured, turning the parcel over in her hands. The paper was thick, with raised and ornate filigree. It was scented with perfume; the fragrance reminded her of jasmine. On the back, stamped in wax, was the hotel's logo, a capitalized and scripted _B_. The envelope felt unnaturally heavy.

She peeled the now-cool sealant off, letting its contents spill onto the bed. A letter and a pin fell out of the envelope. She glanced at the gorgeous trinket.

It was an eagle, in the same fashion as the gargoyles on her poster bed, perched protectively behind the hotel's signature _B_, wings outstretched giving the impression that the letter was about to fly off to some unknown destination. The pin was fashioned from gold, with platinum coating to give the piece more three-dimensionality. The eagle's single visible eye was a single diamond that glittered with such radiance it put the sun to shame.

The young exorcist picked up the letter, reading it aloud to the empty room.

"_Dear Mr. Exorcist_… Why does everyone assume exorcists are all men? Honestly… … _You have been cordially invited to attend the Queen's 32__nd__ annual Birthday Ball. This event will be hosted in the Main Auditorium (adjacent to the lobby) in the Einrichtung des Brandenburger Hotel. You have been offered a seat as a guest of honor at the Queen's table. While I understand exorcists are busy and important people, it would be a great honor not only to myself, this hotel, but the King and Queen would be overjoyed to have you attend as their guest as well. It would be a great shame if you were unable to attend. Our Queen has been vying to meet an exorcist for the longest time. In this envelope you will find enclosed a pin. If you plan on attending, as I hope you shall, show this to any of the stores within Berlin. They will know to forward the bill to our hotel, for any formal wear purchases you might have to make. The ball will be in a week's time, February 23rd, beginning at five in the evening. I do sincerely hope to see you there. With the great thanks, yours truly, Marcus Wilhelm Fridh the Third."_

Lenalee blinked. Her eyes scanned the letter again, making sure she wasn't seeing things. When she was finally convinced that she wouldn't be taking after her brother in terms of eyesight, she flopped down onto the bed. The confused exorcist held the letter above her, checking for signs of forgery.

"This is beyond ridiculous," Lenalee sighed. The hotel room was nice and all, but this was going a little overboard. After all, she was an exorcist, _not_ a princess. "I'm screwed."

If she went to the ball, she'd be shirking her duty as an exorcist. Not only that, but she'd be serving as the representative for the Black Order. A single mistake, no matter how trivial, could reflect negatively many times worse on the Order's reputation. Needless to say, that would be bad. On the other hand, if she declined, it was likely that the well-intended exorcist would sorely offend the king and queen. Lenalee wasn't so thick that she couldn't detect the veiled threat in that invitation. _'… Our Queen has been vying to meet an exorcist for the longest time…'_

In either case, both situations ended with a very 'Alice in Wonderland'-like scenario, minus the blessed reality-check Alice receives at the last minute. There would be no happy ending in this fairytale—just her head on a silver platter.

"Ridiculous." The distressed teenager repeated, closing her eyes. Within moments, somewhat comical thoughts of deranged royalty and neurotic card-knights dissipated into blissful darkness.


	5. Stage V

_February 16, 18XX. 7:42 P.M._

_Unknown Location._

"_The Millennium Earl is searching, searching for his precious heart. Let's check to see if you are it. No, you're not it. Where could the precious heart be? Not you, not you, not you either. Precious heart where did you go? The Millennium Earl needs to find his heart, and crush it with his fist... Searching, searching, searching…_" The singsong voice ended abruptly, followed by a high-pitched cackle. The sound echoed eerily, growing louder with each resonation, the music gaining an amateur operatic nature in the never-ending blackness.

Within the darkness, several blue and red candles hung, mysteriously suspended mid-air. Their tips, opposite the wick, were unnatural sharp… almost as if someone had filed them to a point.

The illumination they shed fell upon a small girl, with jet-black hair, dark skin, and golden irises. Across her forehead were seven crosses, etched into her skin; stigmata. That was her crown, and this room was her castle. She was a queen in her own right. At least that's what she told herself.

"Aghhh, this is so boring!" The girl hissed furiously, tossing a workbook to the floor. She hated schoolwork. She wished Tyki were here; she always managed to get him to do some of her work at least. Occasionally even the Earl chipped in. Unfortunately, this only happened during their family gatherings. When she asked why they weren't having one tonight, the Earl only told her that 'he was busy'.

Snapping her pencil into two, she proceeded to materialize a lollipop out of nowhere. But even that was no good; all it did was remind her of her fallen brother. "Fuck this, I'm going out!"

The child grabbed an umbrella as a heart-shaped door sprouted from the floor. Only it wasn't a normal umbrella. It talked.

"Mistress Rhode, the Earl said you're to stay insi—" The golem's meek protests were cut off sharply with a decisive whack against the door.

"Shut up, Lero." Rhode growled, casting him a derisive glare. She stepped through the portal, disappearing. The room she had departed vanished shortly afterwards as well.

Only her singsong voice remained.

"_The Millennium Earl is searching, searching for his precious heart…Searching, searching, searching…Hahahaha!"_

_February 16, 18XX. 11:45 P.M._

_Berlin, Germany._

"Uwwwaaaahhhh," The female exorcist failed to stifle a huge yawn. She couldn't believe how late it already was. Lenalee began dressing hastily. She tossed her travel garb onto the bed, slipping into the latest exorcist outfit. Lightweight and flexible, it felt like a second skin. Not only that, but it was waterproof and flame-retardant as well, two qualities that were surprisingly useful as an exorcist.

The uniform itself consisted of a jacket and skirt, her personal flair adding some stockings and boots to the mix. The coat had the Black Order Insignia (fashioned from real silver) emblazoned over her heart, as well as crimson buttons down the length and sleeves. The jacket and skirt were trimmed with that same crimson shade. All that scarlet gave her an uneasy feeling. She couldn't help but think of blood, and her fallen comrades as well. _Suman... Tapp..._ Lenalee shook her head before she could delve any further into that depressing list.

"Time to go!"

She was running short on time. Deciding to take a shortcut, the young exorcist dashed out onto the balcony, wrapping a long coat around her body mid-stride. The fast girl had crossed the balcony's length in a mere second, leaping over the three-foot railing narrowly avoiding collision.

Lenalee fell for a time, watching as the earth far below came soaring up to greet her.

"Innocence, activate!"

The blood red bands around her ankles glowed for a moment. Then they began to melt against her body. The rivulets crawled upwards, circling around her knees and connecting once more. Defying the laws of matter, the liquid, like crimson quicksilver, stretched down the lengths of her calves and wrapped around her feet. Within seconds, those ankle bracelets had melted, stretched and crystallized once more, now as knee length boots the color of rubies.

Lenalee felt the wind slap her exposed face as she raced towards the Brandenburg gate, the power of her Dark Boots propelling her through the air. Accelerating to the speed of sound, she was able to reach the famous landmark within mere moments.

"Now to wait." She mused aloud, sitting sidesaddle atop one of the statue horses that were erected above the gate. And wait she did, for a grand total of five minutes.

It came suddenly. Her only warning was a single pebble forcefully dashed against her head. Luckily it was too small to do any real damage, though it did startle the young girl quite a bit. She had to clutch the neck of the statue to stop from falling off it in her surprise.

What was one then became many. The temperature dropped sharply. Thumb sized chunks of hale were flung about in the paranormal maelstrom. Oddly enough, even though they were in a storm, there was no wind. The hale was being propelled on their own.

_This must be from the innocence, but where is it?_

It was hard to focus. The young exorcist was being pelted by the storm, every hit either raising a welt or slicing her skin. Plus she could barely see. Even without shielding her eyes, the field of view was limited to about a foot from her face.

"Huh…?" Lenalee looked to the horses she was situated by. There were five in total. The middle one was… glowing? The reach out her gloved fingers to touch it, but was shocked by some unseen force before she could. The exorcist withdrew her burnt appendage reflexively, biting back a curse. With her undamaged hand, she pulled out a worn photo. It was from the mission's case file. It was a black and white picture of the Brandenburg Gate, worn and frayed at the edges. In the photo there were only _four_ horses.

_That statue must be the innocence._

The storm intensified, as if sensing her revelation. The hale stones were growing larger in both size and numbers. If she didn't hurry, she'd have to wait another three days. Yeah right!

"I'm ending this now!" She promised, feeling power gathering in her ankles. "Accelerate!" Her innocence responded. Jumping from her perch, the young exorcist flew several hundred into the air. Lenalee hung suspended midair for a moment, before dropping faster than a stone, her strong leg extended. Like a knife through butter, her boots slashed through the granite statue. As it fell apart, the ruined remains dissipated, scattering on the wind. The hale storm was gone.

A small orb lay in a pile of debris. The sphere glowed with an emerald radiance. Within it, two cogs were shifting, the machinery encapsulated around a sizzling ball of free-floating energy; it's nucleus. The light dimmed as Lenalee's hand wrapped around it. She pocketed it, surveying the landscape around her.

It was strange. As soon as the gale had died, she'd expected to be face to face with a small horde of Akuma. They flocked to innocence like a moth to a flame. But they didn't. Not like she was complaining of course.

Reflecting on past battles, she wondered if it was possible to vanquish Akuma without leaving destruction in their wake. It seemed one didn't need an enemy to create devastation however. Lenalee smiled wryly at the damage she had caused to the famous landmark. There was a large crack where the false statue had been. Talk about overkill.

Perhaps she had been just a _tad_ overzealous back there. Being smacked by incessant pellets of ice tended to cloud one's judgment. In the end, it was just another bill for the Order to pay. At least no one had been seriously injured, for once.

"Ooooohhh… What are you doing here?"

Lenalee spun around, finding herself face to face with one person she had least expected herself to meet.

"Rhode Kamelot…"


	6. Stage VI

_February 17, 18XX. 1:03 A.M._

_Berlin, Germany._

Lenalee was too stunned to move. Here she was, atop the Brandenburg Gate, face to face with the eldest Noah. Their noses were mere inches apart, with the exorcist standing stock-still while her nemesis sat atop her golem umbrella. A wicked grin was spreading across Rhode's dark complexion. Snapping to her senses, Lenalee backed up, retreating along the edge of the gate's surface. She never broke her eye contact. Violet locked with gold, their stares cold and unrelenting.

"Hahaha, what luck! Here I was, completely bored out of my skull, and guess what? I saw that crazy storm of yours!" The exorcist grimaced. What luck indeed… "Of course, as soon as I arrived, the storm died away… But then I saw _you._"

Rhode hopped off the umbrella, twirling it adroitly between her fingers.

"Y'know, I never forgave Allen for hurting Tyki," Rhode took a step towards Lenalee, umbrella pointed at her face accusingly. "Unfortunately Allen's not here… So I guess I'll have to play with you!"

"Mistress Rhode! The Millennium Earl is going to spank you once he finds out you disobeyed his orders!"

"Shattup! The Earl would never do such a thing!"

Ignoring the golem's shrieking complaints, the Noah charged without warning, arcing the squealing umbrella towards the exorcist. There was a brief flash of crimson, followed by a large explosion. Debris drifted lazily around the scene of the crime. When the haze cleared, there was a very large chunk of the landmark missing, but no little exorcist bits. Well, she really hadn't expected it to be _that_ easy.

"Look's like you got your innocence working again!" Rhode taunted, golden irises roaming the skies for the slippery girl. "That's good, more fun for me! Hahaha!"

"Behind you." The Noah turned around just in time to receive a full-blown kick to the jaw. A sickening snap riddled the air. But Lenalee didn't stop there; she pressed on, aiming another attack to the Noah's head—but it was blocked.

_Huh?_

Between her foot and the Noah's head, a candle was suspended. The candle had negated her attack? Lenalee jumped back, eyeing her opponent warily.

_Christ, the power behind it mirrored mine!_

She knew the Noah were strong, but still… It's not like she could run away, even if she wanted to.

"Fuckin' bitch," Rhode spat. She was seriously pissed. The child's hand reached up, feeling her face gingerly. No blood. Satisfied, she shoved her jaw back into place with a disgusting crunching sound. The active Noah-genes began healing the damage. That didn't calm the blaze the female exorcist had sparked, however. "So you wanna play that way, huh?"

The same candle that had blocked the exorcist's attack now went on the offensive, zooming towards the girl like a homing missile. She barely reacted in time. The dagger-like point had just missed its original target: Lenalee's left eye. Instead, it grazed her face, leaving a deep slash from the outer corner of her eye, across a pristine visage, ending at her ear.

"Aww. I wanted to give you a souvenir. A matching deformed eye for your precious Allen, as a parting gift."

"How kind of you." Lenalee replied dryly. Her lips curled into a snarl as Rhode began to lick the blood off the candle, even though the true irony was lost on her. The exorcist had been under the effects of nerve paralysis when the Noah had impaled Allen's cursed eye in a similar fashion.

"You're so uptight Lenaleeee," Rhode complained nonchalantly, in that annoying singsong voice, as if they were the best of friends. "You need to lighten up. This is s'posed to be fun!"

_Arrogant son of a…_

But the exorcist opted not to vocalize any response.

"Tch. How boring."

And thus, their epic ballad resumed. It was hard to say what was going on, much less who was winning. To onlookers, it looked more like fireworks than anything else. Flames and flashes of jade green, crossing blades with slashes and crosses of ruby red. To the participants, it was a waltz of destruction. One misplaced step on their dance floor ensured victory for the other party, and a likely death for themselves.

Sweat and blood trickled from both Noah and Exorcist, making them alike in that single aspect. Liquid ruby rained from the heavens. The droplets fell to the Earth, tainting the pure white snow they touched. The blood diffused across the watery crystals, turning into malformed pentacle shapes. Fallen stars.

Neither combatant was able to land a definitive blow. Both in turn received minor slices, bruises and cuts from the other. Occasionally, one or the other would find themselves making a very large dent in the cobblestone street, or a makeshift door in the various abandoned houses in the area. It was infuriating… and taxing. While Rhode had a one up on Lenalee with her regenerative powers, she had notice the speed and efficiency of the Noah's power was declining sharply. Rhode noticed too.

"Well, this has been fun!" The Noah giggled, licking blood off a puffy and swollen lower lip. "But I'm afraid this is where we part ways, Lenalee. After all, it's a school night! It wouldn't do for a young, charming, sweet, and impressionable young lady like myself to be caught in such questionable company… Especially in the dead of night! I wonder if your parents know about your rather _strange_ tastes?"

The eldest Noah smirked. She must've struck a nerve… and a deep one at that. Lenalee's face was contorted with pure rage. Just the catalyst Rhode needed to turn the tables. She decided to egg her on.

"You _do_ have parents, don't you?" No response. Rhode cackled maniacally. "Ahaha, poor, poor Lenalee. Your false God is quite cruel. Even _I _have parents. In fact, I have two sets of parents. My true parents, of the pure Noah bloodline… And then I have my "real" parents. Two half-asses like your own!"

Lenalee snapped. Blinded by rage and fueled by reckless abandon, any shred of logic or reasoning had been demolished by that last remark.

The incensed exorcist tackled Rhode. Both went careening off the edge of the Brandenburg Gate. No Innocence, no Dark Boots, just raw power. They landed in a previously created crater with a gut-wrenching crunch. A sick shudder went through Lenalee's body, but she didn't care. Both her bloodied hands were wrapped around the Noah's neck as she straddled the frail-looking child. She squeezed, a strong flow of tears blinding her vision. Her face was burning, several bones in her body either fractured or broken, vision blurring, muscles aching, but she didn't care. This girl was going to die by _her_ hands.

"I didn't realize you were into _these_ kinds of hobbies Lenalee," Rhode managed to choke out, a deranged and bloody smile fixated upon the Noah's features. "And here I thought you were such a pure and virtuous character."

Lenalee's gripped tightened.

"Can you do it? Can you kill a human…?" The child's complexion paled almost instantaneously, the stigmata vanishing, golden irises reverting to a rather dull brown. Her hand faltered. They began to tremble. "Could you live with yourself, knowing you killed a mere child?"

The exorcist's fingers went completely lax. Her shoulders slumped.

_I can't…_

Rhode pulled the female's hands off her neck and sat up. What she did next was the strangest thing of all. She _hugged_ the older girl.

"Thank you, Lenalee," Rhode whispered into the stunned girl's ear. "… In the end though, you're still just a sixteen-year-old girl… _Checkmate_."

_Huh?_

Lenalee felt a warm, numb sensation spreading through her chest. Her fingers began to tingle.

_Odd._

The exorcist looked down… and tried not to retch.

Rhode Kamelot's arm was _in_ her chest.


	7. Stage VII

**Author's Note: Hey, it's chapter seven! This one was kind of forced, I don't know. I probably will be taking a small break; a lot of shit is going on in my life at the moment. As usual, reads and reviews are greatly appreciated.**

**Also, as I've forgotten to say previously, I own neither D Gray-Man nor its characters. **

**Hope you enjoy.**

* * *

_February 17, 18XX. 2:22 A.M._

_Berlin, Germany._

"Hmm, that's odd." The female voice was flat, obviously bored.

_I can't move..._

The black-haired female leaned forward, resting her chin on the exorcist's shoulder. A soft sigh escaped her lips. Rhode's eyes, golden once more, were examining her arm coolly; that is, the one that was sticking out of Lenalee's back. It was completely coated in film of sticky, crimson liquid. The Noah splayed her fingers, admiring her latest nail polish. _Blood_.

"Lenalee, you're so predictable, y'know? You're _way_ too soft, like Allen."

Rhode ran her non-bloodied fingers through the exorcist's emerald tresses. She marveled at how soft and silky the hair was. Whatever had robbed Lenalee of her hair previously had not left any permanent damage. Those locks were just as smooth as the other time the teenager had become Rhode's little plaything.

"Too bad you're on the wrong side, Lenalee. I've always wanted to know what you did to your hair. It's a shame really… That I had to kill you, I mean." She giggled.

_My body is numb…_

Her vision was becoming spotty, blurred and obscured by black splotches. She was losing consciousness, and quickly too. Judging from the excruciating pain in her stomach, the wound was pretty bad. She couldn't bear to take a second glance.

"Well I must say, I'm terribly sorry about all this," Rhode yawned, not sounding sorry in the slightest. "I had meant to make your death quick and painless… But I guess I missed your spinal cord. Woops. Hehe. Well, that was always Tyki's talent, not mine."

Furious, Lenalee tried to pull the foreign arm out of her abdomen. It was no use. Rhode didn't even budge. The exorcist's strength was draining faster than her blood.

"Oi, don't go passin' out on me," Rhode wriggled her legs out from under Lenalee. With her free hand, she lightly slapped the older girl across the face a couple times. No effect. She tried again, with more force this time. Still no effect. "Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you."

With a malicious smile, the Noah wrenched her arm out. A fresh wave of blood spewed out of the gaping wound, painting the snowy floor. Lenalee gagged. Bile and blood choked back the agonized scream, lodging it in her throat.

_I'm going to die, aren't I?_

"That's better. My arm was falling asleep. Are you awake now?" A thought struck the smaller female. Smirking, Rhode brought her crimson hand to Lenalee's face. Using the exorcist's blood, she drew two vertical lines down the older female's bruised and battered cheeks. One stripe on each side, both starting at the outer corner of an eye, ending at her jaw line. There was nothing quite as enjoyable as playing with one's toys. Lenalee had become her favorite doll lately.

"You…" Lenalee hissed, coughing violently. Dark crimson liquid spilled forth from her mouth with each body-wrenching expulsion. Fierce shudders wracked her frame. Every moment, however slight, was causing the dark, gaping hole in her chest to expand.

"Tears of blood. Fitting for a martyr such as yourself, Lenalee." After admiring her handiwork, the Noah stuck each of her fingers in her mouth, one by one. When Rhode was done lapping the blood off of her hands, she wiped them on the older girl's skirt.

_It hurts…_

Gritting her teeth, Lenalee tried to stand up. She _couldn't_ die here. It was no use however. No matter how hard she tried, begged, and cried, her legs would not obey. Her Innocence had deactivated a long time ago, as if it could sense she was at her limit.

"My, my, my… I'm surprised you can still move at all. You should see the mess you made. It's quite a piece of art really. Perhaps I should see if your General friend would paint me a portrait of it? It'd be quite a lovely piece."

"Say, Lenalee, let's make a deal. How about I spare your life, and in exchange, you become my cute little doll?"

Images of Suman and that unknown boy flooded her mind. Blood and destruction. All it would lead to was blood, pain, destruction, and a similar fate, if only delayed. Lenalee would rather die than become a fallen one.

"I'd rather die, thanks… Your fashion sense is horrendous…"

"How rude." The Noah's fist cracked against the exorcist's face. More blood poured from her mouth. Darkness pressed against her mind. She numbly wondered whether she was going to die from choking on her own blood or from blood loss.

The last thing the dying exorcist witnessed was Rhode's maniacal grin and her high-pitched cackle; then whatever was left of her consciousness was extinguished. It dissipated like dust in the wind, enveloped by the unyielding embrace of blackness.

"Oi. Oi!" Rhode growled, prodding the limp form of Lenalee. She didn't move. The Noah dashed the pumpkin-shaped golem against the girl's head. Nothing. A new pool of liquid ruby was collecting where the exorcist had collapsed, spreading at an alarming rate. "Bah, that's lame. Lero, we're going!"

But before she took flight, the young girl paused, considering the fallen exorcist carefully. Last time a Noah had left an exorcist to die on their own, they hadn't. That mistake had come back to haunt them. Tyki could attest (and painfully so) to that fact.

Rhode picked up the girl by the scruff of her neck, but the near-death exorcist slipped out of the tattered long coat. The Noah cursed, tossing aside the bloodied garment. She hated the coppery smell of blood. Loved the taste, hated the smell. Covered in all that sticky crimson liquid, she was starting to feel kind of gross as well. The quicker she cleaned up her mess and could go home to take a shower, the better. Rhode grabbed Lenalee by her belt, wrenching the girl from gravity's embrace as if she were nothing more than a rag doll.

"Damn you're light… suppose losing almost all your blood does that though." The child pressed two fingers against the adolescent's neck, just to check. Sure enough, by some inborn tenacity, the girl was still alive. Her pulse was weak and faint, barely detectable, but it was there.

The girl giggled and hopped on the levitating golem, the sudden increase in weight cutting off the whiny pumpkin's usual string of protests and complaints. "We're going, Lero. The pretty exorcist is in need of a bath!"

One golem, one Noah, and one half-dead girl zoomed off into the night.

The endless buildings whipped, later giving way to farms and pastures. These in turn became barren mountains, and then desolate plains. Finally, they arrived at a cliff. The Baltic Sea stretched across the horizon before them. The black waters clawed and thrashed at the cliff. Its rocky fingers were outstretched towards the heavens.

"Well, Lenalee, I had fun for today. Thanks for that!" Rhode giggled, and dropped the exorcist off the face of the cliff. The exorcist fell like a stone. As soon as Lenalee hit the water, she disappeared into the black maws of the sea, swallowed by Poseidon's stormy wrath.

"Mistress Rhode!" Lero suddenly squealed, the dire urgency in his voice was greater than usual.

"Whaaaaat?" Rhode growled. She was standing before a heart-shaped door. It hasn't been there moments ago. The girl began to scratch at some dried blood under her nose. The exorcist had managed to break her nose at some point, she mused.

"You didn't destroy the exorcist's Innocence!" Lero squawked, spluttering at the young Noah.

Rhode's usually dark features blanched visibly. In all the fun, blood and excitement, she had completely forgotten that Lenalee had been a possible candidate for the Heart.

"Shiiiiiit."

* * *

**A/N: No, the story is not over! Please stay tuned for more. =)**


	8. Stage VIII

**A/N: Hey everybody, it's chapter eight. This one's kind of long. I wish more people would R&R. Perhaps I shouldn't of put five chapters up at once for the initial release… -sadpanda- Oh, also, I edited the previous chapter, just an "FYI".**

**Anyways, please enjoy the new chapter!**

* * *

_Where am I…?_

_ This feels familiar…_

_ My head hurts._

_I feel pain, but I can't feel my body…_

_I can't remember why. What happened? Oh, that's right, Rhode… am I dead? _

_Is this what it feels like to be dead? It must be._

_A blood red ocean, a black moon…?_

_Just like my dream. _

_ Allen…He's not here._

_ Is this Hell?_

_I'm all alone._

_I'm going to miss you guys…I wonder if anyone even knows yet? I hope they're all okay. _

_We're fighting a war after all. War has casualties. _

_Komui…How selfish of me. I brought into my prison, only to leave without saying goodbye. I'm truly sorry, brother. I hope you forgive me._

_ Everyone… I'm sorry._

* * *

_February 18, 18XX. 10:34 A.M._

_Black Order Headquarters, France._

"What do you mean you can't find her?!" A male voice barked, the harsh sound resonating the otherwise empty office. Komui Lee—normally a calm man. Well, not _calm_ per say, but he certainly wasn't an angry person. A tad overzealous and eccentric at times, yes, but on the whole, not an aggressive character. At the moment, however, he was absolutely seething. Put some steam in his ears and call him a kettle, cause he was about to boil over.

The plain black golem flapped its wings calmly, oblivious to it's unhappy fate. Four other golems had been destroyed prior to the current one, as soon as the supervisor had finished his call. Komui wasn't one to break tradition.

"I've already told you, Supervisor," An annoyed male voice crackled from the other line. "She isn't here. When I first got to the scene, the place was empty. All I found was a jacket—I assume it was hers. It was covered in blood. In the pockets, there was Innocence and a pin. Upon further investigation, I found out the pin belonged to the hotel she had been staying at. The Innocence must've been the source of the storms."

Komui's fists clenched and unclenched. He was fighting desperately to keep his temper; a fight he lost.

"How about you tell me something I don't know? I don't need parroting, finder! I need results!" The older Lee was burning with rage. He wasn't mad at the finder in particular. He was just angry. The finder and the golems just happened to be a convenient way to displace his emotions.

_First my parents, now my baby sister… Does God's cruelty know no bounds?_

"Don't you get what I'm telling you Komui? Even if by some strange twist of fate your sister is still alive, she's not in Berlin! Probably not even in Germany. We're fighting a war! We can't waste precious manpower on a wild goose chase!" The finder sighed. In a much softer tone, he continued. "You didn't see it, Komui. There was blood _everywhere_… It was disgusting. It wasn't Akuma blood either—I tested it. Supervisor, it'd take more than a miracle for a normal human to survive that much blood loss… I'm sorry."

A defeated sigh escaped his lips.

"… I got it."

_Click_.

He crushed the golem between his fingers.

"Lenalee…"

* * *

_Am I going to be stuck here for the rest of my life…?_

_A person could go mad here._

_There's no sound._

_But I can hear my thoughts?_

_Well, I suppose Hell doesn't follow the laws and Mechanics of Earth… If this is Hell. _

* * *

_February 20, 18XX. 7:38 P.M._

_Black Order Headquarters, France._

"I made the official announcement today. There was a brief ceremony. It was standard. No, we never recovered a body. Yes, I followed the proper protocol and procedure. It's been very hard on everyone; she was very well liked within the Order. She has grievers in the other branches as well. Yes, it's quite unfortunate. I appreciate your sentiments, sir. Thank you. Good bye."

Komui set the phone down gently and leaned back in his chair, looking towards the ceiling. His appearance was ragged and bedraggled. He hadn't shaved in days. There were deep purple splotches painted around his sunken eyes. His face was gaunt, the skin taut and drawn. His complexion was sallow, the color of a man who hadn't seen the sun in years.

The supervisor was fiddling with a coffee mug in his hands. It was blue, with a silly looking cartoon rabbit. The cup had been a container Lenalee had given him as a birthday present, many years ago. He had even spent a whole day fixing the cup when he had accidentally dropped and broke it. It was the cup he had coffee in everyday. He hadn't drunk a single drop since Lenalee had gone missing.

He set his head on his desk and began to sob quietly.

* * *

_February 20, 18XX. 8:24 P.M._

_Black Order Headquarters, France._

It was pretty quiet in the cafeteria. The somber announcement had effectively sobered the entire headquarters. Allen Walker, Yu Kanda, and Lavi were sitting together in the near-silent room.

Allen's gray eyes were bloodshot and puffy. When the white-haired boy first found out, he stormed out of the Order, saying he was going to Berlin one way or another. No amount of persuading could stop him. In the end, Kanda had to physically subdue the parasitic exorcist while a large group of finders dragged him back to Headquarters. Komui then put him under "house arrest" with Howard Link guarding his door. Link had the kindness and decency not to object, even though he was under a direct order to "observe Walker at all times".

Lavi was a bit subtler in his efforts. The previous night, he'd attempted to sneak onto the Ark. However, when he had entered the science department, he found Bookman guarding the entrance.

"_Stupid greenhorn," _He had said, the old panda whacking Lavi across the skull. _"We are just observers in this war. Nothing more. Don't let that girl cloud your judgment." _Before the redheaded youth could even formulate some bullshit excuse, the elderly man cut him off. _"I have already gone and observed the wreckage, Lavi. Return to your room, and don't let me catch you taking anymore midnight strolls again." _Lavi could tell by the panda's facial expression and tonality, whatever he had seen hadn't been a pretty sight.

Both Allen and Lavi had attended the funeral, tears teasing their eyes, but never falling. It wasn't until both exorcists had returned to their respective rooms that they had broken down and sobbed. Even Kanda, an exorcist who usually didn't give a damn about anyone else, was stony faced.

None of them said anything. They were all too preoccupied with their own thoughts.

Kanda was eating his soba mutely. Lavi was playing with his ramen, twirling the noodles between his chopsticks. Allen, the biggest eater of the three, hadn't even touched the gargantuan pile of food that lay before him. He felt sick; his appetite at the moment was completely nonexistent.

Their attention snapped to a pair of newcomers in the cafeteria. The two were chatting happily away, as if nothing was wrong. Well, rather, it was one man talking animatedly to some poor finder who had just happened to enter at the same time. The finder had his head bowed, avoiding eye contact. Even under his drawn hood, his face was beet red. It was obvious he wanted nothing to do with Mr. Chatterbox, but judging by his downcast eyes and hunched shoulders, he appeared to be a rather meek fellow.

The talkative man was Legory Peck, formerly of Central, the chief of the Section Two Science Division. Peck was of average height, with sandy hair, a hooked nose, and thick-rimmed glasses that shaded his beady black eyes.

"It's a shame really," Legory said in a rather loud tone, sitting at the table behind Lavi and Allen, his back facing theirs'. "To lose such a nice pair of legs. There're not enough female subordinates around here."

_Crash._

Allen's untouched food was scattered on the dining hall's floor. The dishes that had held the dinner were all shattered and splintered, littering the ground. The white-haired exorcist was standing, his hands curled into fists. He had upset the table in his sudden movement.

The uncouth scientist looked over his shoulder at the commotion. A smirk spread across his hawk-like visage when he recognized the source.

"Ah, Allen, just the man I was looking for," Peck cooed tauntingly. "You know the girl better than I would. I'm sure you've taken a few _rides_ yourself. So tell me, _Allen_, how was it? Did she have a sweet little cunt?"

"You piece of _shit!_"

A flash of silver. Allen's _Edge_ was drawn, the dangerous claw hovering threateningly over the boor's head. Allen had expected the man to start begging for his life, or at the very least, an apology. He got nothing of the sort. Legory Peck began to _laugh._

"I wouldn't do that, Allen. Any treasonous act, no matter how small, and all your little friends here will be forced to kill you."

Bookman junior stood next to the white-haired youth and put a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. Allen opened his mouth to protest, but Lavi ignored him. Instead he walked up to Legory and thrust his fist into the dumb oaf's face. The impact was so strong, Allen was sure that man's head was going to burst like a balloon. Not like he would mind.

"Yeah, you're right," The redhead growled, twisting his wrist ever so slightly. An evil grin graced his sharp features when he heard a satisfying _crack._ "Allen can't do anything. Guess it's your dumb luck I was here."

Legory clutched his face. The organic spigot in his nose had broken, releasing a cascade of liquid ruby. The blood streamed down the scientist's face and neck, staining the collar of his otherwise immaculate lab coat.

"You bastard!" Peck wailed, his haughty attitude suddenly gone. "I'll have your asses for this!" He scrambled to his feet, using his sleeve to try and stem the flood pouring from his nose. The quaking man found himself face to face with a _very_ sharp black katana—one that was mere centimeters from his nose.

"Hmm, I wonder who the higher-ups will believe? One pathetic scientist such as yourself, versus a whole room of witnesses, all of whom will adamantly testify that they saw you trip and smash your face? As if it's any of our faults you're a clumsy fuck," Kanda narrowed his eyes darkly, his voice murderously civil. "I suggest you watch yourself, lest you suffer from anymore _accidents_. Now get out of my sight."

"B-bastards…" Legory hissed, look around the silent cafeteria for some support. He saw none; only the hateful glares of the onlookers. "Geh...!"

He stormed out in a huff, his disappearance followed by cheers and approving looks towards the trio of exorcists.

Both Lavi and Allen looked at each other, then at Kanda, eyebrows raised.

"_Yuuuu_," Lavi ventured with a coy smile, prodding the swordsman in the cheek. "And to think you we once thought you heartless!" The redhead ducked, narrowly avoiding decapitation at the hands of the exorcist he had just "complimented".

"Don't call me by my first name!" Kanda roared at Lavi, who was hiding behind Allen. He glared at them both. "Tch. Don't get the wrong idea; he was ruining my meal."

With that, the blue-haired exorcist sheathed _Mugen_ and bussed his tray to the drop-off section of the cafeteria, still fuming.

It didn't take long for the exorcists' somber mood to return from its shallow grave.

* * *

_I wonder how everyone is doing. _

_Is it still February 17__th__? _

_I wonder if anyone even knows I'm dead yet? _

_Is it possible to go insane when you're dead?_

_I don't know, but if you keep talking like this, you're going to make __**me**__ go insane._

_Huh? Did I just hear someone…?_

_Yeah, you did._

_I'm imagining things already huh…_

_Hey, don't just write me off like that. Look down._

_You look like me! But how? Who are you?_

_I __**am**__ you. In a sense, at least. _

_Oh, I get it… You're just my reflection in the water. God I'm going mad._

_For the last time, you're not insane! Look closely._

_Huh… You look like me, but not quite. Something's different, but I can't put my finger on it. And your movements aren't matching mine._

_See? Now do you get it? I'm part of you._

… _Does this mean I have a split personality?_

_Good God girl, you should not be left to your own devices ever again; it rots your brain._

_Well if I'm not crazy, then tell me why and how you're here?_

_I'm here because I live here._

_You live here? Where is here then?_

_Haven't you figured it out yet? This is your mind. _

_My mind…? Then this isn't Hell? Wait! That means…_

_Bingo. You're still alive._

_How?_

_How am I supposed to know? _

_You're not very helpful…_

_Says the girl who got into this mess in the first place. I say "alive" very loosely. You and I both know the amount of damage you took. You could be permanently debilitated or on the verge of death. I really have no idea._

_How do I get out of here?_

_You'll wake up when your body feels like it. Or maybe you'll never wake up. Wouldn't that be fun?_

_Not really._

_Well, if you're not bent on moving in, I suppose I could help you…_

_How?_

_Release me.  
_

… _Release you? What __**are**__ you, exactly?_

_Like I said, you, in a sense. _

_It's the "in a sense" part that's worrying me._

_By the time I explained everything, you'll probably already be dead. You **do** want to get out of here, right?_

_Yeah, but..._

_Then what's the big deal?  
_

… _Huh? What's that light?_

_Shit. Well, just remember, if you're ever in a pinch, I'm always here._

_W-wait! Huh? She's gone… Agh, I can barely see. Where the hell is that light coming from?_

* * *

A loud gasp rent the cool air. A pair of eyelids fluttered open. Violet eyes blinked, slowly coming into focus.

"I'm… alive…?"

* * *

A/N: Hey again. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Sorry if the italicized parts were confusing. I tried to emulate a sort of stream-of-consciousness format, to spice it up a little bit. Hope I didn't go too out-of-character… Hard to know how a fictional character thinks to be honest. Hope I didn't go overboard with the whole Legory Peck scene… but the guy really is a douche, in my opinion.

I'll probably spit out the next chapter in a few days. I might go on a break though, since I'm traveling for Thanksgiving. I don't know how much free time I'll have during or after the break—end of the semester is probably going to be hectic. Peace!


	9. Stage IX

**A/N: Took me forever to update this story, but here you go! Unless I am suddenly blessed with god-like focus and photographic memory, I probably won't be able to shell out another update for either of my stories until after finals/the semester ends. As always, feel free to comment, point out any errors, give constructive criticisms, et cetera. Thank you, and please enjoy.  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________**

_February 21, 18XX. 3:12 P.M._

_Gedser, Denmark._

The air was warm, thick with rich fragrances. Muffled sounds could be heard from outside the room. There was a pungent smell of smoke filtering from behind the grated hearth, where a hearty fire blazed. Lenalee glanced around the room, a slight fog clouding her vision. The room was small, but not suffocating. Above the fire, a portrait of a wizened old man hung, in a golden frame. He had black eyes, with grey hair cropped short and a perfectly trimmed goatee. The man seem to be an important figure, garbed in a handsome and very decorated military outfit. The walls of the room were stark white, as was the floor. In fact, aside from the fireplace and painting, everything was a startling pure white. It was a bit unnerving.

Lenalee gingerly sat up, surveying herself. She was wearing no shirt, she noticed immediately. Instead, her torso—from below her collarbone to just above her navel—was wrapped in thick woolen bandages. Her lower half was luckier; nearly bandage free, having been protected by her Dark Boots during the battle. There were sporadic pads of gauze and medical tape placed in conjunction across the rest of her body—her arms, hands, and face. Lenalee placed her fingers tenderly on her sternum, wincing as she did so. It was the spot where she had been brutally impaled. The spot throbbed with a dull ache, and it hurt when she breathed too deep, indicating some broken ribs... but she was alive. Though Lenalee wasn't a doctor, she had a feeling none of the damage was permanent as well. _But how?_

An elderly woman poked her head through the open door. Her face was etched with deep crevasses and valleys, eyes dull with cataracts, whatever was left of her hair was flat and gray, but a warm and lively smile graced her dry lips.

"Ah, you're finally awake," The aged female exclaimed, shuffling to the side of the bed. She spoke with a thick Germanic accent, but her voice was soft and not unkind. She fixed an archaic pair of spectacles upon the bridge of her liver-spotted nose, inspecting the injured exorcist carefully. Her bony hands wrapped around Lenalee's wrist. With her lips pursed, the would-be doctor counted the number of heart beats within the minute, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration as she did so. Satisfied, she turned once more to her silent and much younger companion. "Looks like you're coming along nicely, yes. I'm quite surprised really, considering the state you were in when my son dragged you in—covered in blood, soaked to the bone, and cold as ice. I held my fingers along your neck for a good thirty seconds before I felt a pulse—and a weak one at that. I had to check again to make sure that wasn't my own heart pumping."

"I did all I possibly could for you. I cleaned and stitched your wound closed," She nodded somberly at the mummification of Lenalee's torso. "But things were not looking good for you. It might've been the sea that saved you, strangely enough. The salt would've prevented infection, and the cold water kept your temperature down. Your fever spiked once we got you dry. We, my son and I that is, had to keep you in an ice bath day in and day out. You were hanging on by a mere thread, really. Slept for a week five days straight—but yesterday, your fever broke all of a sudden, and your breathing evened out. It was quite a miracle, really. Thank your lucky stars—someone up there loves you."

"Ah, but I'm being rude, aren't I? All this yammer and I've yet to introduce myself. My name is Eliza Koerhuis. My son, Timothy, found you floating around in sea when he was out on his fishing boat. It is such a miracle, really. God bless." The talkative woman took both of Lenalee's hands in her own and shook them heartily, all smiles. A hiss from the other room indicated a kettle was coming to a boil. "Oh, the tea is ready! Excuse me if you would, Miss…?"

"Lenalee," The exorcist replied politely, forcing a weak smile. Her head was swimming. It's not like she wasn't grateful—she was. The lady and her son had inevitably saved her. Or had they? At this point, she wasn't sure of anything. Both she and Allen had survived fatal injuries at the hands of the Noah. Injuries that should've—no, _would've_ killed them. The fates should've cut the strings to their lives, but they hadn't. Allen was saved by his "destroyed" Innocence. But his Innocence was a parasitic type; literally part of his body. Hers was not. It was true that her Innocence had created some strange crystalline cocoon to protect her in previous instances, but she knew that had not happened this time around. Surely the elderly woman would've mentioned it. _No_, Lenalee mused, chewing on her lip, _this is different than what happened to Allen, I'm sure of it._

Her savior had claimed this was a miracle; Lenalee thought the nature of this "miracle" was much more nefarious.

"Here you go deary," Eliza came back into the bleach white room, cradling a piping hot mug. She placed it on the table beside Lenalee's bed, the dark green liquid steaming placidly. "Drink up, I added an herb that will ease the pain—judging from your wounds, I'd imagine you're aching pretty badly." No sooner than Lenalee finished her brew, she began to pass out. In the back of her mind, she vaguely wondered if the kind woman had laced her drink with opium. It certainly did a bit more than just ease the pain. But before she could think on it anymore, her drooping lids slammed shut, ushering forth hours worth of dreamless sleep.

* * *

_February 21, 18XX. 10:34 P.M._

_Stralsund, Germany._

The moon was lost in the sea of clouds, playing hide-and-seek with the planet it was forever doomed to orbit. The only illumination came from the sparse stars dotting the navy canopy above. Two men were barely visible through the cloak of darkness, their shadowed forms conversing heatedly. They were standing at the sharp face of a cliff, a black sea raging before them.

"You're sure this is where the trail ends?" The question originated from the smaller of the two men. He was a wiry male of average length, with closely cropped black hair, his face almost completely covered in bandages, save for one of his eyes. He was dressed in a long black robe, decorated with silvered ornaments and elaborate, scripted runes of an archaic language long dead. His voice was muffled by his strange choice of accessory, but the annoyed tone was clear as crystal. "It's not that I don't trust your nose, Lancel… I even lied to Komui so he wouldn't taint the trail with his _dogs_… But the fact remains we're in the middle of nowhere."

"No. This is the place. The trail ends here," His companion told him in a gruff reply. Of the two men, he was much bigger—several heads taller than him, and twice as wide, with meaty shoulders, a barrel chest, a thick salt-and-pepper beard and a shaggy mop of graying curls. He was dressed in robe similar to his friend's, the only difference being the size of the garment. His voice was a deep baritone, booming throughout the empty scenery. "The scent of the Noah disappears here. The girl too, if we're correct in assuming all that blood was hers. _That_ scent is particularly overwhelming. The Noah's stench is faint after this bit of time, but the smell of blood is particularly strong, as if it were fresh. This is definitely the right place."

"You could sense it though, when you saw her before?" The bandaged man inquired, peering curiously over the edge of the cliff. "I thought I sensed something when I was with her on the train… But I thought she wasn't on the list?"

"Mmm… I sensed something—that much is for sure. Perhaps the higher-ups thought being a potential for the _Heart_ negated the potential for _that_. In any case, someone wasn't quite so sure. After all, both of us were sent to monitor her. But she definitely didn't activate," Lancel sighed, running a hand the size of a frying pan through his hair, clearly irritated. "But who would've guessed she would run into a Noah on such a shoe-in mission. At least we know gained some insight from this expedition."

His companion cast him a confused and curious side-long glance, the question apparent in his eyes.

"Lenalee Lee is either not the heart, or she's still alive."


End file.
